


For Better or Worse

by QueenoftheRandomWord42



Series: On Your Left (Ring Finger) [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Family Dynamics, Found Family, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Sam Wilson is a BAMF, Secret Marriage, Secret Marriage AU, Sneaky Nick Fury, Steve Rogers is a BAMF, The Accidentally Secretly Married Fic, which is the AU portion of this fic, with the exception of the marriage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-04-04
Packaged: 2019-10-28 18:29:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17792498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheRandomWord42/pseuds/QueenoftheRandomWord42
Summary: What if Steve Rogers met Sam Wilson shortly after the Battle of New York?" For the Wilsons, falling in love was easy for them, getting married felt natural and right, like coming home after a long day to find dinner was already made and their favorite movie was on TV.The Honeymoon phase of their marriage coasted the way to the first real challenge their marriage faced eight months in. When Steve, was picked up from a run by the Black Widow after Steve and Sam’s morning run and Steve had to face mercenary pirates on the Lumarian Star."The American Airlines retelling of Captain America: The Winter Soldier.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came about when I was between apartments, and while I was unpacking I played Captain America: The Winter Soldier as background noise, and to challenge myself to watch the movie outside of my usual Stucky Shipping Goggles, and watch it with different ship goggles, which inspired this fic.  
> I figured I'd post the first two chapter for Valentines Day.

Years from now, there would be days that some people would wonder how the Wilsons managed to keep such a major thing quiet.

Not Sam, and definitely not Steve.

They both happened to meet a week after Steve moved to Washington DC to work for SHIELD, running past Sam in the low dawn light with a muttered: “On your left.”

Sam nodded and let Steve pass, and Steve passed him again in better light.

And again.

And again.

When Sam finished his run, Steve stopped to make small talk. This continued for weeks until Steve finally thought to ask Sam for his phone number, but Sam beat him to the punch by asking Steve for his number.

Steve almost gave Sam his work number out of sheer habit but managed to switch to his personal number instead. After his most recent mission, with no message in sight, Steve double checked with Tony with concerns about his new phone number expiring, before Tony reassured Steve that the number he gave Sam was still good.

Tony was confused about the phone call, but looking back, he was the first one to even realize there was a relationship between Steve and Sam, even though Tony had no idea who “Sam” was. After a brief background check, which told Tony and JARVIS that Sam Wilson was simply a veteran, Tony accepted that and put it out of his mind in favor of his next big project with Bruce.

Sam texted Steve five minutes later, confirming that Steve’s number was still good.

Then their courtship began, first with early morning runs, then runs that ended with coffee, coffee dates, lunch dates, dinner, dinner ending in sex. The relationship moved on six months after they started dating to when Steve was invited to join Sam to the Wilson Family Thanksgiving, distracting Steve from it being seven to eight months since Steve woke up from the ice.

By Christmas Sam’s nephew, Jimmy asked Steve if he’d be okay with Jimmy calling Steve “uncle” too, and Sam pretended not to see his boyfriend tear up.

Paul and Darlene Wilson were both not surprised, and very surprised when they had received a phone call one random Saturday in May from Steve, asking if he could visit them, and ask them a question.

Their suspicions were confirmed with Steve showed them the ring he wanted to give Sam. And as parents, they had a few questions they wanted to ask to assuage any doubts that may come up.

“Well, would your family have minded?” Darlene asked nervously, thinking about how much the culture must have changed since Steve was young, knowing that the last of his family had fallen from a train in 1945 and his mother had passed in the late thirties, things Darlene had gleaned from careful research and reading between the lines when Steve felt vulnerable and needed some emotional support. Steve Rogers’ Captain America identity was an open secret in the family.

“Honestly Mrs. Wilson, Ma would have made a bigger deal about Peggy being English than anything else, I grew up as a broke Irish immigrant kid in a queer neighborhood, so we were more open-minded than most at the time,” Steve admitted.

“Call me Mom,” Darlene corrected.

“And call me Pop, your part of the family now Steve,” Paul Wilson added, and then pulled out his Bible, “I’d be happy to conduct the ceremony when Sam says ‘yes’.”

Steve suddenly felt a little more confident about the ring in his pocket.

Meanwhile, in Washington DC, Sam made an appointment too while he assumed Steve was on a mission.

Peggy Carter, in the early stages of Alzheimer's, but feeling well enough to remember Steve’s recovery and had a chance to meet Sam from time to time. She gave Sam her whole-hearted blessing on behalf of Steve’s family over earl grey tea.

“Just remember to invite me to the ceremony,” Peggy added with a wink.

The proposal was in the early morning light, which both had decided to relive how they met, with Sam running, Steve rushing by on his laps. Steve kept running and when he got all his excess super soldier energy out of his system before joining Sam at a normal “human pace” until they finished running.

Under the same familiar tree, they paused to catch their breath, and Steve and Sam asked each other to marry the other at the same time.

Their baffled delighted laughter was only noticed by a security camera and the security guard who chose to ignore the gay interracial couple in favor of a potential pickpocket situation, which simply turned out to be racial profiling related false alarm.

The Wedding took place on August 22, 2013, between Sam and Steve’s birthdays, the wedding was a small courthouse ceremony in Harlem New York, Paul Wilson was able to officiate his youngest son’s wedding like he was able to for his older two children. In New York, Steve and Sam’s marriage would have been recognized by the state, the entire Wilson Family attended the reception, as did Peggy Carter, and her nurse attending as her plus one, were proud to represent Steve’s side of the family.

Tony got a memo that Steve was having a celebration but was suffering from the flu after an engineering bender, so sent money with little memory about the reason why something a year from then he’d kick himself for. Natasha and Clint missed the invitation and reception entirely during a few classified missions from SHIELD during the whole duration of wedding planning until Steve got back from his Honeymoon, Bruce had been in a remote region in India for the past six months so he missed the invitation, and Thor was in Asgard.

Their honeymoon was a road trip across the United States, and the most prized souvenir was the picture them kissing in front of the Crater Lake in Oregon.

The kiss was chaste, both holding the other intimately close, and PG enough for the children present outside of the camera with the iconic Wizard Island appearing in the background framed with pine trees, and photobombed by an overeager Golden Retriever playing in the last of the mountain snow in the foreground. The picture was framed in a myrtle wood frame Steve found in an overpriced gift shop shortly after the picture was taken, and had a treasured place on their mantelpiece.

When Steve came back from his honeymoon, the world was quiet for once, he went to the HR department of SHIELD and quietly filed a copy of his and Sam’s marriage certificate. The HR official Agnes Reynolds was helpful but didn’t seem to care that it was Steve Rogers, in the way implied she that she saw people get married and divorced every day so she didn’t see what so special, so ended every sentence Steve said with “congratulations, isn’t that nice?”

Steve requested that only the paper copy get filed just in case something happened to the electronic copy, but Agnes just shrugged and followed through with filing only the paper copy, as it would be less shit for her to enter in at the end of the day.

What Steve didn’t know was today was Agnes Mabel Reynolds last day of work before retiring, so she definitely didn’t care that Captain America now had a “secret gay marriage”, or that she was the only person how really knew that Steve was married to Sam Wilson.

The next day Agnes started her retirement by boarding a plane headed to the Australian Outback to a remote underground town where Agnes built her own retirement home out of the rock, making a fortune on the opals she dug up, cut, polished, and sold while constructing it. She would then proceed to spend the rest of her days in that town happily minding her own business and making “pets” out of all the wildlife that took shelter in her home.

But Steve had no idea that Agnes had done that, as he was already entering a domestic routine of wedded bliss outside of his SHIELD missions and visiting the VA to watch his husband at work. For the Wilsons, falling in love was easy for them, getting married felt natural and right, like coming home after a long day to find dinner was already made and their favorite movie was on TV.

The Honeymoon phase of their marriage coasted the way to the first real challenge their marriage faced eight months after Agnes retired. When Steve, was picked up from a run by the Black Widow after Steve and Sam’s morning run and Steve had to face mercenary pirates on the Lumarian Star.


	2. Steve's Daily Routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve's on Cloud Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a sex scene at the beginning of the chapter, the first one I have written in a long time, so if you do not wish to read a sex scene you can read until *~* and then continue until the next *~* to read the rest of the chapter.

Some nights were filled with rough dreams and tender care. If Sam had a nightmare Steve would fetch the sock filled with inexpensive rice wrapped in a towel from the freezer to place around the back of Sam’s neck. The freezer-sock helped Sam pull himself into the present and away from the hot Afghanistan nights. Conversely, when it was Steve’s turn, Sam would grab a second rice sock from the microwave so Steve had a lot of heat to pull himself away from the icy Arctic waters and the Valkyrie.

But this morning was a peaceful night, one with quiet dreams and a warm afterglow before sleep, and Steve’s super soldier serum was enough to give him enough efficient rest allowing Steve to wake before his alarm. In the dark with faint street lamps illuminating the predawn light, allowing Steve to see the outline of his bedside table, the lamp on his side, and the faint shape of his phone and charger.

Steve slowly rolled over and could see his sleeping husband’s form, from his shoulders down his curled up back, the sheets and comforter suggesting his shape like an abstract gesture drawing Steve used to do before the War started for art class.

Sam’s bare shoulder hunched over the comforter while Steve could see Sam’s pillow was wedged between his bicep and ear.

Steve gently tried to wiggle closer to Sam’s side, ready to wake his husband with a gentle kiss before he heard a long inhale through Sam’s nose, Steve lifted his head up and peeked to see Sam’s lips twitch like he was holding back a grin before schooling his face into a mask of sleep.

That’s what Steve got for marrying a light sleeper who slept on an extra firm mattress.

Steve still leaned in to give Sam a soft kiss on the cheek, only to have Sam roll over to predictably give him a kiss on the lips instead.

“Good morning,” Sam croaked after they parted for air, “sleep well?”

“Definitely, and you?” Steve asked, wiggling a little lower, his mind thinking of alternative ways to wake them both up, his lower belly warmed in excitement and anticipation.

***~***

“It’s been a great night,” Sam answered coyly, voice still scratchy from sleep, but heating with interest. Steve’s morning wood twitched at the invite, and his heart started racing.

“But I think I woke up with a little problem, one I hope my husband can solve…” Sam teased, turning to face Steve in invitation.

“One your husband definitely can fix…” Steve knew he was still in the honeymoon phase because Sam’s use of the word “husband” made him want to swoon like an idiot.

“Well, what’s keeping him?” Sam teased, thumbing the waistband of his boxer briefs, revealing a small tidbit of his hipbone.

“For you to stop referring to him in the third person,” Steve grunted and dove right in, gently pulling the brief’s down, while Sam’s hands guided Steve’s head to his awakening cock, and Steve began to tease it with his lips and tongue.

Sam gasped slightly, and Steve could hear a slight moan building up in Sam’s throat, so he began to shuffle his knees to position himself at a better angle to Sam’s erection, and wiggling his ass closer to Sam’s face.

Sam chuckled and Steve could feel Sam handling his butt cheeks.

“May I?” Sam asked.

“Yes,” Steve grunted before returning his attention back to Sam’s cock.

Steve had to stifle a gasp when Sam pulled his underwear down over his ass and down by his knees and Sam pulled Steve’s hips closer to himself and proceeded to handle his cheeks. Steve twitched a little when he felt Sam’s chin and beard brush against his skin in little kisses.

“Well two can play at this game,” Sam teased, his breath brushing up against Steve’s butt cheeks, causing Steve’s breathing to pick up the pace, and Steve was not about to fall behind.

Steve began to enhance his blow job by gently sucking on Sam’s cock, causing it to grow slightly firmer and shifted his weight to one arm so he could gently caress Sam’s balls in little circles. Sam flexed his hips with a loud moan, under Steve’s ministrations, and then Sam began to pay special attention to his balls in retaliation.

“You like that?” Steve smirked and felt a warm tingly sensation left behind by Sam’s fingers, before Sam’s other hand began gently stroking Steve’s shaft.

Steve yelped and croaked more encouragement to Sam. It was then a race to see who could get the other to the climax first.

“Oh, you think you’re going to—” Sam egged on before Steve engulfed Sam’s cock into his mouth and began sucking.

“That’s not fair,” Sam teased, his mouth unoccupied before he dove in and began kissing and licking Steve’s ass.

Steve groaned, and Sam doubled his efforts until both felt their mutual pleasures build and climax, causing Sam to come in Steve’s mouth and Steve to barely come on his discarded underwear, Steve swallowed and collapsed next to Sam, both panting with a grin and a pair of giggles.

***~***  
“That might have been a tie,” Steve croaked with a grin, and Sam leaned forward with a kiss on Steve’s lips.

Steve moaned into the kiss and turned to give Sam better access, both leaning forward to meet in the middle.

The kiss broke and both stared into each other’s hooded eyes.

Then at the same time, both phones buzzed loudly, creating a loud percussion on both bedside tables, and disappointed, both men turned to silence their alarms.

“Looks like it’s time to get back to reality,” Sam sighed, pulling up a pair of sweatpants, and got to his feet to pick up his running sweatshirt, “Care to join me in the shower?”

Steve was on his feet in seconds with a grin, this was the kind of wake-up call that Steve knew would make him blush if he recalled it later.

A productive run—the kind where Steve got to admire his husband’s ass three times a loop before passing him—later, Steve’s work phone buzzed as they stood under their tree, Sam sitting under its shade trying to catch his breath, and Steve could see Sam reading everything in Steve’s body language.

“Duty calls huh?”

Steve deflated a little, “Yeah, I guess I won’t get breakfast, and I was looking forward to your cooking too.”

It had been today’s turn for Sam to make breakfast, and Sam had a hash brown casserole overnighting in the fridge for that purpose.

Sam got up to give Steve a quick peck on the cheek, and Steve quickly met him in the middle with his lips, and Steve pulled back when he heard Natasha’s car engine rev up in the approach.

“Have a good day at work Mr. Wilson,” Sam whispered, and Steve’s stomach swooped at the pet name.

Steve looked into Sam’s brown eyes, marveling for just a second how they seemed to drink in his appearance while burning with a passion that made Steve want to return to his side quickly. “I love you, and you have a great day at work.”

Steve stepped back, and Natasha pulled in to view with Steve approaching the curve, with a quick quip about asking for directions to the Smithsonian for a fossil pick up.

Steve rolled his eyes and climbed into the muscle car with a wave.

“Look at you, showing off,” Natasha teased after they drove off.

“Anything wrong with that?” Steve asked, and Natasha laughed.

“Not at all,” Natasha shrugged with a comfortable grip, “But wouldn’t that make your spouse jealous?”

Steve shot her a raised eyebrow, Natasha found out Steve was married. Before Steve could tell her who, she decided to make a game about it, and guess.

Steve was sure Natasha knew for a while because she always suggested women’s names, which Steve took to mean that it was her way of showing him her support while giving him and Sam their privacy.

Which was even more important to Steve because he wasn’t out at work.

Steve was well aware of how to make for a professional work environment, SHIELD was kind enough to give Steve the instructional videos a week before the Battle of New York, including how to prevent harassment in the office, which included not making sexist, racist, homophobic, or bigoted jokes of any kind.

When Steve was introduced to STRIKE Team Alpha, he instantly called out one of the men for making a sexist joke, and the man quieted down with an apology, before deflecting by telling Steve that he should think about weaponizing his disappointed dad face.

Regardless of Steve trying to nip office inappropriate jokes in the bud at work, he picked up, or possibly accidentally confirmed, his reputation as a prude at work. Like a bonsai tree one might find growing in a window sill, Steve had to carefully manage and cultivate the reputation correctly, while kicking terrorists’ in the ass and extracting innocents away from the line of fire, and proving himself to be a good leader to the team.

Most of the team seemed to assume that meant that Steve didn’t want to talk about sex at all, likely because he probably disapproved on premarital sex in principle, or other such nonsense that educators and parents tried to tell the adolescents of America, rather than the truth.

Steve just didn’t want to share such personal intimate information at work, he wanted to hoard all the times he shared with Sam like Smaug hoarded his treasure.

All the smiles, the dirty kisses, nights in the apartment when they were naked and making love, or even the quiet moments where Sam was verbally coaxing Steve away from the silent cold of the Valkyrie, armed with nothing but hot herbal tea, the microwaved sock, and a blanket.

Perhaps that made Steve appear to disapprove of sex instead of bragging about something he truly treasured, but Steve didn’t care.

But he was thankful for Natasha, who doggedly continued her game.

“Is it Kirsten from Statistics?”

“I barely know her,” Steve shook his head, pulling out the protein bar he had stashed in his sweatpants pocket just in case he got pulled away instead of the hot, melty, creamy goodness that was the hash brown casserole.

“What about Lycoris from HR?”

“The one who Clint tried to convince me was a vampire because she wore black lipstick last Halloween? I’m not her type.”

“How can you tell?” Natasha asked as she changed lanes and picked their speed up to merge into traffic.

“Because she came out as asexual while you were on a mission in Singapore,” Steve took a bite of the bar and schooled his face as the chalky flavor of the bar wasn’t masked by the white chocolate coating that barely made it easy to swallow. “And Lycoris isn’t even married, try again.”

“I’ll figure it out Rogers, you can’t hide it from me forever,” Natasha challenged with a grin.

“And the minute you do, we’ll invite you over for dinner,” Steve took another bite, hoping he could finish it in three bites, but on the bright side, he didn’t have to do dishes.

“Aw, that’s so sweet, but I don’t know if I want any of your cooking after the ramen incident of twenty twelve.”

“Hey, my cooking has improved,” Steve defended, the ramen incident was a result of Steve grocery shopping for the first time on his own, finding out just how cheap top ramen was, accidentally over boiled his first batch, and Natasha arrived just in time for the smoke alarm to go off. Natasha promptly threw away the black and yellow mushy eye-watering mess before Steve could eat it.

Steve met Sam a month and a half later.

And Sam was an even better cook than Steve, which is why Steve considered asking Sam, Paul, and Darlene, for some more cooking tips, because on Steve’s off days, Steve wanted to treat his husband to a home cooked meal that wasn’t boiled.

“Clint could come too if he wanted,” Steve added after a moment’s thought, it had been a while since Steve got to hang out with the archer, thanks to Clint’s crazy schedule and their time offs simply not lining up.

Before Natasha could respond to that, they were already pulling into the SHIELD parking complex, an all talk of marriage and dinners had ceased, and instead, Steve Wilson was transformed into Captain America: Steve Rogers.

Steve greeted Maria Hill as he passed her on the way to the STRIKE division.

She had proven to be a friend on par with Natasha, but Steve didn’t talk about his personal life during work, so Steve had little chance to get to know her better or introduce her to Sam, who Steve was certain they’d get along great.

Steve clocked in and was ushered straight into the STRIKE division’s men’s locker room after Natasha told him that debrief would be on the quinjet in six minutes, and Steve heard uproarious laughter from between one of the lockers.

“…. And then I warned him to be careful not to turn his back on the Greek guy because you know how the Greeks liked to flank them from behind if you know what I—”

“Rumlow…” Rollins stopped him from finishing that sentence and gestured toward Steve, stopping what most likely would have been the punchline of a rather crude joke about gay sex, or at least a xenophobic joke.

And predictably Steve’s kill-joy reputation did its work.

“We debrief in five, report on the quinjet,” Steve announced, noticing that all the team except for him were in their Kevlar uniforms, and Steve went straight into his locker, pulling out his latest stealth suit.

Steve was proud of this suit, as it was the latest of a series of suits for missions that Steve had direct say in the design in the 21st century, with his choice of the dark burgundy stripes on Steve’s sides, the duller star to continue his trademark without giving away his location too soon if he had to conceal any civilians or other such things in the dark. But what Steve was most attached to about this suit was its rich navy-blue color.

Besides the practical aspect of navy-blue being better in blending in low light environments, Steve chose the color because it was Bucky’s favorite color, and some part of Steve wanted Bucky with him, even if it was only in spirit, watching his back and protecting him from the ever after, even if it was only as Steve memorializing his best friend/blood brother by color choice.

Steve was one of the first to board the quinjet with two minutes to spare, his shield taking its familiar place on his back, the entire team arriving and filing on to the quinjet, Rumlow pulling up the dossier, and ready to debrief the team and free the ship from pirates in the middle of the Indian Ocean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be occupied by a few big bangs, and will be posting those fics on top of this one, but I'll update when I finish a scene in chapter three, I have already chapters four and five written.  
> Next Chapter We get Sam's POV.


	3. Sam's Daily Routine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I just finished a collaboration with the Stucky AU big bang and finished this chapter, so I wanted to update today.   
> Once again, this chapter was not beta read, so all errors are mine, and mine alone.

Sam didn’t always expect his husband to be home the night after he left for a mission, sometimes Steve would be gone for about a week, with Sam to worry for his safety each time.

Don’t get Sam wrong, Steve was a tactical strategist with a brilliant mind, and a super soldier, a well-trained one. Steve was more likely to get into a fight and walk out relatively alright, but Steve was only one man.

So, Sam left the casserole in the fridge and ate toast, and went to work early instead.

Marlene was at the front desk at the VA, and she was happy to make casual small talk with Sam as he clocked in. Marlene’s little boy tried to sneak his bicycle out of the garage so he could go play in the park, but Marlene caught him before he even got into the garage.

“My husband swears we’ve got the next Tony Stark,” she laughed.

“And your son is how old?” Sam asked instead.

“Seventy-two months,” Marlene preened with pride.

Sam nodded after doing some quick mental math--seriously the kid was six years old and his mother still measured his age in months?--gave Marlene the thumbs up and left before she could inquire about whether he and Steve wanted to start a family yet. Again.

Short answer: No, Sam wanted his husband’s attention to himself for a few more years.

Long answer: when they were ready to raise a child, Steve would retire, because Steve didn’t want any child to experience losing a parent if a mission went wrong. Sam in the meantime, was happy it was just the two of them and was okay with monopolizing his time with Steve for as long as possible.

Sam quickly entered in some paperwork left on his desk during the night and began working to aid the Veterans of America, a job that was just as important as Steve’s.

Meanwhile, Steve was out there fighting–monsters, evil ninja, Nazis, what have you on the evil spectrum—able to get rid of the people making the world awful by violence and hatred.

Sam had to pick up a pen and some kind words to defeat people who make the world awful by ineffective bureaucracy and indifference.

Sam quickly finished the paperwork, sending the appropriate papers to his some of his colleagues for them to tackle insurance companies, and a few moments later, the first of some of the veteran Sam was responsible for came into his office, tired and edgy from a rough night.

The first to come into his office was a veteran who moved down from New York after the battle of New York with his life both intact and business in shatters.

Sam mostly worked with the man when the man was struggling with his PTSD keeping him awake at night, and judging by the puffy sunken in eyes, last night had been one of those awful nights.

“Sanborn, how may I help you?” Sam asked, getting up and ushering Sanborn into the chair by his desk. Sanborn sank into it like a falling tree.

“Well, my insurance claim still hasn’t gone through after all that crap that happened in New York two years ago, so I had to file the paperwork--again, my pension from the VA is late, and my wife’s looking for another job, but we’re not sure if we should with the new baby coming,” Sanborn began nervously.

Sam nodded reassuringly, “I think we can help, I can make a few calls, are the nightmares getting better?”

“No, I still dream about what happened in New York, on top of all that shit I saw in the Middle East,” Sanborn grumbled, “I’ve taken to working out an hour longer each time it happens just to get the nervous energy out, but the tactical part of my mind keeps revisiting what happened.”

Sam inhaled, Sanborn struggled on what he could manage, but Sam was here to help him.

So he began to help Sanborn work through his trauma, and offer coping mechanisms, but it sounded like Sanborn was working on it enough to seek appropriate help. That warmed Sam’s heart a little.

“Then it just crashed, and I just,” Sanborn inhaled thru his nose and slowly exhaled before saying, “I think the alien wouldn’t have destroyed the storefront if the Avengers had another flier or something.”

Something about Sanborn’s tone didn’t match his words quite well.

“You sound like you should be angrier,” Sam observed, nervously reading Sanborn’s body language.

“Well, Captain America arrived in time to stop one of the aliens from hurting one of my customers, and gave me enough time to finish off the second monster with my pistol before they could do any more harm, then I spent the rest of the time shielding the customers in the back during the rest of the invasion, but the damage was too much and my business went bankrupt,” Sanborn shrugged.

After ten more minutes, Sanborn agreed to join Sam at one of his later group sessions, to remind him that he’s part of a community and that they all shared similar problems.

After the first group session ended, Sam went back to his desk to fill out more paperwork, and after the first form was completed, he glanced at the pictures on the desk, the frame had a picture of him and Riley during their Pararescue days, and a picture of him and Steve on their wedding day. His eyes lingered on the straps on his shoulders in the first picture.

***

“So, how was your day Honey?” Sam asked the moment they shut the car door for the normal small talk before heading back to their apartment.

Steve sighed, looking drained.

“I take it you saw Peggy today?” Sam inquired, his mind filling in the blanks, Steve got like this when Peggy was having a bad memory day, and Sam knew that anytime between in a few months or a few years Steve would have to say “Goodbye” one final time to his oldest living friend and one-time almost lover.

Steve nodded, “yeah” he croaked, “and not just her.”

Sam gestured encouragingly as he looked back and reversed out of their parking spot and onto the road, within moments were stuck in Washington DC traffic.

And then Steve just released, sounding more like a pressurized soda bottle, fizzing and spraying fine mists of carbonated soft drink everywhere. “Well, work was a frustrating disaster, can’t get any more detailed than that, then I swung by the museum because they finally opened that section about Bucky, and I just needed a place to think.”

“Then you visited Peggy?” Sam added, and Steve nodded.

Looked like tonight was going to be frozen meals because both would be too exhausted to cook, and maybe Steve would get a hot bath alone to deal with his feelings before both went to bed early.

Sam looked at the strain in Steve’s shoulders and remembered how some missions hit Steve harder than others, and Sam remembered Sanborn.

“You know, if it’s becoming too much, I can always come back into service and help you guys,” Sam began, remembering the details Sanborn kept fixating on and the tactical advantage having another flier in the air while the world was ending.

Steve glanced up at Sam, his face slack in surprise, “Are you sure Sam? I mean you got out for a reason.”

Of course, the first thing Sam’s husband to think about Sam’s wellbeing, but from the open acceptance in Steve’s face, Sam could see his husband was happy to support Sam leaving the bench to join the team in the field.

And Sam couldn’t think of a better way to honor Riley’s memory than actively working for a better world in a way that was uniquely Sam.

Sam opened his mouth to answer before his phone began ringing. A quick glance at the caller ID was enough to confirm who was calling.

“I got it,” Steve said, and Sam gestured for Steve to answer with a nod.

“Hello?” Steve asked, setting the phone on speaker

“Hey, Uncle Steve!”

“Hey Jimmy,” Steve said with a grin, “You’re on speaker phone.”

“What’s up to Jimmy?” Sam called before slowing to stop at a stop light.

“Hey Uncle Sam,” Jimmy greeted, “you guys coming for brunch?”

“Definitely, we’re looking forward to Sunday,” Sam nodded, “and how’s school coming for you?”

“Great, I’ve got a science project, and I’m tearing my hair out trying to figure out what it should be about.”

Sam shrugged, pursing his lips to come up with ideas, Jimmy always worked best when he had someone to bounce ideas off of, and his parents wouldn’t be home from work for thirty more minutes. “Well, have you asked your teacher for brainstorming ideas? What are you guys studying in school, maybe that might help.”

“Well today we talked about electrons, and beta radiation, that was kinda cool.”

“Yeah?” Steve perked up a little, and Sam noticed that Steve was starting to look a lot less sad. “How does that work? They didn’t teach us that in science class back in my day.”

Sam grinned to himself as he slowed down and traffic ground to a halt. Jimmy seemed eager to teach Captain America, his Uncle Steve, all he learned in school, soon when there was a subject he was stuck on, Sam could hear to boy pull out his science textbook out of his backpack, or boot up the family computer to pull up Wikipedia so they could understand some of the more advanced concepts for the project.

Eventually, they talked about Electron Particle collisions, and Jimmy rechecked the instructions for his project.

“It’s too bad I don’t have a primary source, like a paper or something for this, it sounds really cool and would totally get me an A, but our school got a budget cut so some of their science journal subscriptions expired.” Jimmy groaned.

Steve went from perked up and curious to sitting up as he had just had an epiphany.

“I know a guy,” Steve said, “He knows way more about this science stuff than I do, he even wrote a paper about it before I met him.”

“Really?”

“Steve, I’m not sure my brother would feel comfortable about his thirteen-year-old son meeting some scientist from SHIELD,” Sam warned to two sets of deaf ears.

Yeah, meeting a spy scientist would definitely not fly with Gideon P. Wilson, father, preacher, and an unapologetic helicopter parent.

Don’t get Sam wrong, with all the shit they saw both growing up, and Gideon’s own personal experiences as a pastor and the prayers he had to make in the past were enough to make anyone a nervous parent. Then add the further complications Gideon and his wife Valerie had of unspoken miscarriages and a difficult pregnancy they had to endure just to bring Jimmy, the only baby they could ever have, into the world, it was no surprise that Gideon was a might overprotective.

“Bruce doesn’t work for SHIELD,” Steve Rogers Wilson, the kid who grew up in the streets of Great Depression Brooklyn with stickball, fist fights, and overworked single mothers, trudged on reassuringly.

Sam ran a quick mental catalog about all the “Bruce”s Steve had mentioned in the past and drew a quick conclusion.

Jimmy, the bright young man he was, also drew the same conclusion.

“Wait, are you saying that the Incredible Hulk could help me with my science project?” Jimmy asked with a hint of admiration.

“He’s only the Hulk if he needs to be, but Dr. Banner is a brilliant scientist and I think he might be coming back from South Korea this week, but I can check.”

Somehow Sam was even less sure Gideon would approve unless they had a careful Gideon Wilson approved bolt hole in case Bruce’s green alter ego decided to help with the project.

Jimmy was just pleased with the idea of meeting someone so famous who wasn’t technically family.

“Jimmy? Who’s on the phone?” And just like clockwork, Sam could hear his older brother open the front door of their home.

“Just Uncle Steve and Uncle Sam, Uncle Steve says he knows someone who can help me with my science project.” Jimmy reported, “And he’s not a SHIELD Scientist either.”

Sam was sure his brother was regarding his only child suspiciously, even if Sam couldn’t see the interaction. “We’ll discuss it later, now it’s time to time to get started on your homework.”

“Yes, dad.”

Gideon picked up the phone, and Sam began some small talk with his brother, mostly about inconsequential stuff about work, their planned brunch after Church next Sunday, and Steve started texting Bruce.

By the time Gideon had hung up to start dinner, Sam pulled up to the parking spot by their apartment, and Steve stopped texting Bruce with a sigh.

“Bruce is spending another week in Seoul, they’ve made another breakthrough,” Steve said with a sigh, “We’ll need to know when the project is due, but Bruce would be willing to Skype in an interview.”

“That would likely be enough for Gideon,” Sam agreed, then decided that he didn’t want to do dishes, and simply said, “Say, wanna grab a bite to eat instead?”


	4. Foxtrot is Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse after a late night visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Today is the fifth year anniversary of Captain America the Winter Soldier premiere (April 4, 2014, in American Theaters), so I thought to celebrate I'd take a break of my hectic schedule to update.  
> I'm currently editing a shrinkyclink fic fest fic which should be up in a few days and I'm working on some awesome reverse big bangs that I think you guys can look forward to in a few months.  
> I also moved to a new apartment and I start up work again on Monday, so that'll mean a better routine for writing.  
> Enjoy!

Dinner wound up being a small Greek place a block away from their apartment, and it was dark shortly after they finished their meal. As they got out of their car, Steve slipped his wedding ring back on so he and Sam could be a matched set without Steve worrying about his ring getting damaged in a fight.

After that fulfilling meal, Sam had only one gyro while Steve ate four, and tipping Cody behind the counter twice their normal amount after he greeted both Steve and Sam by their first names.

They chatted about minor things that were safe for public ears, mostly about what to bring for Brunch. When they debated between a fruit tray and the hashbrown casserole, Sam suggested they bring both.

The walk home after that was quiet and tired, with Steve ready to collapse into bed. Steve knew he’d probably hold Sam for a little before sleep and would fall asleep with their backs together.

They collected their mail, climbed the stairs and Steve noticed their neighbor Kate leaving her apartment with her phone in her ear.

She finished her phone conversation and hung up, dropping her phone into her laundry basket before she looked up and glanced at Steve.

Kate was a nurse, just like Steve’s mother was, and was one of the neighbors that Steve would consider to be close to a friend. The kind of neighbor his mother would have made an effort to befriend.

Steve learned early on that making friends with your neighbors, and to stand up for them when injustices occurred, then they’d probably stand up with you too. Steve had memories as a child playing with his neighborhood friends when he was feeling well, and having dinner over at Arnie Roth’s apartment and then later at Bucky’s while his mother worked late to support them.

Kate glanced up and saw Steve and Sam, and with a grin gestured to her phone, “My aunt, she’s kind of an insomniac.”

“I take it she lives in Europe or something?” Sam asked as they weren’t awake that late at night.

“England,” Kate confirmed, her blonde curls shifted around her ears as she grinned at them in a friendly manner.

Steve glanced down at the laundry basket and remembering how he spent the money in Tony’s wedding gift check on investing in a good washer and dryer set. Much more affordable than constantly spending money on the machines down in the basement.

“If you want, you can use our machine, it might be cheaper than the one downstairs,” Steve offered.

Kate tilted her head in interest, “Oh yeah, what’s it going to cost?”

Steve caught a glimpse of Sam raising his eyebrow at him--like Sam did the time a complete stranger asked Steve if he’d ‘catch her if she swooned’, and Steve was sure that woman was referring to the late summer heat--but Steve was certain that Kate wasn’t flirting at him, she was just being friendly.

“Checkers? Or we could do monopoly, we can play while you wait for your load,” Steve offered with a disarming grin.

Kate’s face fell a little in confusion, and Sam’s lips twitched in a way that meant he fought down a snicker.

“No,” Sam said with a headshake, “not monopoly Steve, remember Thanksgiving?” Then he scratched the left side of his face. Steve warmed a little at the sight of the ring in the hallway light. Then he registered what Sam was saying.

Right, Thanksgiving, where competition was fierce on who’d win second place. The first place was reserved for Sarah’s five-year-old son Jody, but Steve’s Sister-in-law nearly lost her temper when Steve put a hotel on Park Ave. Steve might have gone a little overboard in his gloating. Sarah Casper nearly didn’t speak to Steve during the entire Thanksgiving week.

“Oh, right, how about that train one, Ticket to Ride I think it was called?” Steve tried instead.

“Oh, thanks, but I can’t, these scrubs came from the infectious disease ward.”

Steve held up his hands and leaned away from the basket, “We’ll keep our distance then.”

Kate glanced at his hands then at his face, “Well hopefully not too far, it’s nice to have such helpful neighbors.”

And Sam thought Kate was flirting with him, nope, not at all.

“Wait,” Sam brought up, his voice slightly suspicious, “The Wallaces prefer machine six, and their youngest is immunocompromised, please tell me you take steps to prevent the spread of infection?”

Kate nodded gently, “Of course, these scrubs had an initial washing in a special machine back at the hospital, I just double scrub to reassure myself that they’re clean, but thanks for letting me know about the Wallaces.” She turned to leave before she remembered something “Oh, by the way, I think you guys left your stereo on, I heard it playing when I got home from work.”

Steve nodded and they waited for Kate to leave before Steve glanced at Sam, and Sam looked back with the same nod. Sam tilted his head near the fire escape, and both began to creep down the halls, splitting up to make them harder to detect.

Their apartment was a corner one, which had few line sights leading to the inside of the apartment, but meant that the fire escape was on the east side of the building, and the vinyl record was by the fireplace in the living room on the north side of the apartment, this meant that they would have to use the fire escape to creep into the kitchen.

They both departed the apartment building from the ground floor, the streets were quiet and both circled around, Sam’s idea, which he quickly told his husband using hand signals while making it look like he was brushing the dust off Steve’s brown leather jacket. Steve signaled his affirmative with a squeeze on the shoulder and both parted ways, Steve holding a bag he pulled out of his jacket pocket to make it look like he was just taking out the trash if there were anyone outside the apartment was watching.

“I’m headed to the bodega, Honey, I’ll be back soon,” Sam said quietly before he rounded the corner.

“Be safe, see you inside dear,” Steve called back, that was their signal to split up.

Steve walked over to the dumpsters, keeping his footsteps soft, slowing down his breathing and using his mouth instead of his nose so he wouldn’t be overwhelmed by the scent of garbage if he or Sam were to be ambushed. He dumped the empty plastic bag into the can, and while keeping his eyes close to the dumpster he listened. The smell of garbage was powerfully wafting into his barely used nostrils, masking any smell of any intruder, so Steve had to rely on his sight, touch, and hearing if there were any enemies nearby on the ground level.

Leaning up, as if to glance at the non-existent stars, Steve looked up, hoping to catch any foes waiting from above, but all he could see were apartment buildings, including a few windowsills of their neighbors with potted plants catching the mild spring breeze.

Steve could hear the muffled sounds of people inside the buildings, the office building across the other alleyway was unsuspiciously silent, in the distance a pair of alley cats yowled.

His motorcycle remained parked on the street, and he carefully pulled out the key to it, and discretely glanced up and down the street.

The street was empty and most of the residents were inside eating dinner or busy watching TV, it was a relatively safe neighborhood, but the latent chill of winter still kept people inside for the most part after dark.

Steve put his key to his bike, parked next to their Chevy SUV, and pulled out his shield.

Steve, glanced around to reassure himself the street was deserted and put the shield on.

His heart was ready to be pounding in his ears, but he kept tabs on his surroundings. He was prepared, just in case, Sam needed back up. Things were quiet but that made Steve’s heart pound. His skin became electric as if he was smuggling Mjolnir under his jacket.

Steve crept further around the alleyway, approaching around the corner to the fence, quietly and gracefully climbing over it. He landed in well-trained silence, Sam thankfully standing under the fire escape. Steve approached his husband with some hushed relief, the ambush awaiting them was likely contained in their apartment.

“All clear” Sam whispered when Steve approached, and he eyed Steve’s shield, and Steve handed his shield to Sam, who held it close, nodding what the gesture meant.

Steve knelt and cupped his hands together, and without further prompting Sam stepped in and allowed Steve to hoist him up. Sam then turned around ready to pull Steve up onto the fire escape, and both strained to not only pull themselves up but pull themselves up smoothly enough to not rattle the fire escape.

Both froze for a bit, silence filling their ears before Steve nodded and both began to climb up, Steve shielding Sam’s back while Sam held the Shield before them.

Slowly they made their way to their window and gently pried it open, taking turns to scan the environment for visible threats. Steve saw nothing, and the kitchen was empty.

Slowly, shield first, Steve crawled into their kitchen window, Sam following with cat-like silence. Steve went first

They scanned the hallway, including the spot where Steve had kissed Sam goodbye as he headed for work a few days ago. Steve glanced into the den, suddenly worried that the wall between it and the hallway would be the perfect place for an ambush.

Steve felt Sam’s hand on his back, as he glanced down the hallway, the pressure was a little reassuring. Sam was in position for a better-coordinated defense.

Steve kept glancing through the shelf wall that contained their books and cutlery peering for alien shapes in the low ambient light, Steve could feel his heart pound at the uncertainty if the shadows were harmless appliances and furnishings or an intruder ready to strike.

As they approached Steve could hear the final notes of “It’s been a Long Long Time”, the last Henry James song Steve was listening too when the needle reached the end of the vinyl, but instead of the customary silence that came with the end of the record, the song restarted.

Steve recognized that for what it was, a mix of a courtesy warning, and an intentional giving away of position, his heart sputtered at the conclusion. Whoever was here, wanted to let him know they were there.

He crept to the den, and nestled the corner next to the record player, sitting in Steve’s reading armchair, with his one eye piercing into him, like a tiger concealed in the dark, was--

“Steve, didn’t that man attend our wedding? He looks a lot like the man who worked as Peggy’s nurse...” Sam whispered from peering over Steve’s shoulder.

Steve looked closer, and sure enough, outside of nursing scrubs, a wig, an added eyepatch, aged twenty years older, and without the illuminating light of day, Nick Fury bore a remarkable resemblance to Peggy Carter’s plus one-slash-nursing staff. The very same one who handed Peggy a handkerchief when she started crying tears of joy when Steve and Sam exchanged their vows.

“You were at our wedding.”

Fury replied with one simple nod, “had to make sure that your wedding stayed classified personally, and my infiltration was on a need to know basis.”

Well, son of a bitch.

“I don’t remember giving you a key,” Steve grumbled, dropping his shield and signaling to his husband that Fury wasn’t a threat to him.

“You really think I need one?” Fury asked, messing with his phone, letting loose a quiet “ow” as he adjusted his seat, causing Sam to leave Steve’s side and go to their bathroom down the hall.

Steve’s heart rose a little at his husband’s kindness but decided to find out what Fury wanted before anything else happened.

“My wife kicked me out,” Fury announced as if to explain his presence.

“Didn’t know you were married,” Steve pointed out, hearing his own husband pull out their first aid kit from the bathroom.

“A lot of things you don’t know about me,” Fury continued.

Understatement of the fucking year.

“I know Nick, that’s the problem.”

Steve flicked on the light if he and Sam were to have this conversation with Fury, Steve refused to do it in the dark.

In the light, Fury looked awful, covered in bruises, scraped, cut, and bloody. His left arm was cradled close to his torso, but nothing looked more ominous than when Fury stared right back at Steve and turned off the lamp off.

Fury finished fiddling with his phone and tilted the screen forward.

**EARS EVERYWHERE**

Steve and Sam’s apartment, their place, their home, was bugged, and for who knows how long.

Which meant SHIELD was privy to Steve and Sam’s nightmares. Privy to their playful shouts and filthy talk during sex, or when they played awful sitcoms for background noise before they fell asleep on rough nights.

SHIELD was privy to their important conversations, like when Sam shared a rough patch during his teenage years with Steve about the time Paul Wilson was stabbed and was hospitalized for months. The old wound was acting up and it worried Sam.

And SHIELD must have been gratified to learn about the discussions Steve and Sam had about waiting to adopt until Steve was ready if he was ever ready, to retire.

“I’m sorry to have to do this, but I had no place else to crash.”

**SHIELD COMPROMISED**

Sam was leaving the bathroom, the one window in the den close to their bedroom exposed him in the low light.

“Who else knows about your wife?” Steve asked.

**YOU AND ME**

“Just…” Fury said as he got up, and he took a deep fortifying breath through the pain, “my friends.”

Steve had strong feeling friends don’t bug friend’s apartments, or risk their friend’s retired spouses to compromised intelligence agencies.

“Is that what we are?” Steve asked instead.

“That is up to you,” Fury stated point blankly.

Then, like three champagne bottles popping their corks at the same time, three gunshots--sniper with a silencer attachment piece-- broke through Steve’s wall and into Fury’s chest.

Steve hunched behind his shield, and he could hear Sam dive down to the hallway floor over Fury’s shouts, and thinking fast, Steve began to pull Fury out of the line of fire without a second thought. Taking refuge on their kitchen floor.

Steve glanced up looking for more threats, glancing through their hallway window, and he could see a glint of silver, and the outline of a black rifle.

Sam met Steve on in the kitchen, crawling low to make him harder to spot by the sniper, first aid kit alongside him.

Steve pulled back as Sam began to assess Fury’s gunshot wounds and Fury reached up and grabbed his arm in a firm grip.

Steve stopped pulling and Fury weakly opened his hand, Steve picked up the object he was holding, and realized it was Natasha’s flash drive.

“Don’t trust anyone,” Fury warned in a rasp while Sam rushed to contain the bleeding on his chest.

Steve heard the sound of something large and powerful bashing against their front door three times before Steve heard the front lock give way and the door slammed open.

Steve tucked the flash into his pocket and pulled his shield between Sam, Fury, and the door, tense and ready.

He’d have to act fast if he wanted to protect them, and he had no idea who was breaking in.

“Captain Rogers?”

Steve peered through the shelf wall between the kitchen and saw blonde hair, pink scrubs, and a handgun pointed ahead of her like an intensively trained expert.

“Captain, I’m Agent 13 of SHIELD's Special Services,” Kate announced.

“Kate?” Steve asked. Their friendly neighbor was a secret SHIELD agent?

“I’m assigned to protect you,” Kate continued.

Sam proceeded to continue trying to seal up Fury’s wounds, while Kate approached them, Steve still tense.

“On whose orders?” Steve demanded.

“His,” She said, looking at Fury, and pulling out a com system from her pocket, “Foxtrot is down, I need EMTs. Do we have any information on the shooter?”

Steve glanced up and saw another flash of silver out the window. "Tell them I'm in pursuit."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it's safe to assume if it isn't explicitly written in the chapter, it went down' exactly like it did in canon.  
> Chapter Five is mostly written and might wait for a little before it's ready for an update, thanks for reading!


End file.
